


It Festers

by TheMadPuppy85



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Love, Yandere Tendencies, desperate Jumin, jealous Jumin, speculative character development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 21:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9404666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadPuppy85/pseuds/TheMadPuppy85
Summary: It seems Jumin is always working nowadays. What’s a girl got to do to get her husband’s attention? …Unless there’s another reason?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my followers' contest on [my Tumblr](http://themadpuppy85.tumblr.com/). The winner wanted a canon (read: Jumin is relatively sane) fic where the MC flirts with one of his employees to make him jealous, so enjoy the sin! (the light sin, considering my usual offerings, but still XD)

**_It festers  
_ ** **_This cancer  
_ ** **_This monster in my soul  
_ ** ****_—Love._

“Jumin?” you asked sweetly, standing in the entrance of his office. You were sporting your best dress, the one he requested you put on for your 3rd wedding anniversary; it was so sexy it never failed to drive him wild.

Or at least, it used to.

“Yes, my love?” replied Jumin, his eyes lighting up upon seeing you, but otherwise unaffected; you could have worn a potato sack for all he seemed to notice. “Is there anything you need?”

“Well, since you’re so busy lately, I thought…” you started while closing the door behind you, mentally cheering yourself on. _It’s okay. Today you’ll succeed. Have more confidence!_ “…I could help you relax a bit?” you finished with a wink, lifting your skirt to reveal your lacy, racy, please-fuck-me panties. There was no way he wouldn’t react to _that_.

“Of course, princess” Jumin chuckled, like you were a child pouting for a handful of candies. “Just let me tell Assistant Kang to cancel my appointments…” he went on, already reaching for the phone and missing your outraged expression. For Christ’s sake, you were decked in underwear worthy of the most decadent courtesans of the Moulin Rouge, and his answer was _sure, let me call my secretary?_   What else?! _Excuse me, honey, I need to enter this in my daily planner:_ _5 o’clock, impromptu tryst with my wife._ It was unbelievable.

And boring. And frustrating. And _humiliating_. By the time Jumin made you come over his desk, you were about to cry. He touched you like one would do his duty; it felt like having sex with a robot.

***

“I swear, Jaehee, I almost miss the time he didn’t want to let me out of the penthouse!” you sobbed in your handkerchief. It had an embroidery in the corner spelling _JH_ , and you ragefully made a point of smearing snot on it. “All that talk about juicy fruits and not being able to hold back and _you can be much more greedy_ and all that bullshit” you ranted, mimicking the baritone of your husband’s voice to mock him. “What did I do? Why doesn’t he like me anymore?”

“That’s nonsense” Jaehee comforted, pushing another slice of cake towards you. She had the pained expression of the employee who wished she never heard so much about the sex life of her boss, but bravely held on for the sake of female solidarity. “Mr. Han loves you more than anyone or anything in the world. I’m sure he’s just distracted with our latest project?”

“No! I tell you, since he came back from Arabia, he’s not the same! He grew tired of me!” you wailed. Unless a prettier girl caught his eye? What else could it be? It was driving you mad. Never had you thought you’d be reduced to doubting him when he had always made you feel so sure of his affection before.

“What don’t you just ask him?” suggested Jaehee with a sigh. Girl talk wasn’t her forte; she had no idea how to advise you on your heartache when her own only coping method was to watch musicals of another man. “I’m worried for you. You look like you’re about to have a nervous breakdown.”

You shook your head, completely dejected. It would solve the problem, but you’d die before admitting to Jumin you were afraid he was unfaithful. If you were right, you’d be devastated; if you weren’t, he’d be so wounded by your suspicions that you’d never forgive yourself.

“I’ll go shopping. Change my thoughts. Isn’t that what rich neglected housewives do?” you announced after a moment, smiling pitifully at your own joke. Retail therapy always helped, and maybe you could send a not-so-subtle message to your husband by blowing half his fortune on sex toys.

***

Unfortunately, it was easier said than done.

“No! I said _no!_ ” you forbid, almost shouting in the face of the chief of security. “I’m going shopping _inside the building!_ There’s no need for any of you to escort me!” you pleaded, barely resisting the urge to stomp your foot when he refused to budge. “Let me go _right now_ or I’ll…I’ll… I’ll find a way to fire you!” you threatened in desperation. You knew you were being unfair, but you couldn’t help it any longer. Was it really too much to ask to buy dildos in _private?_

“Milady, I’m just following Mr. Han’s instructions for your safety, please be reasonable—” he started in a placating manner, but you cut him off.

“ _I don’t give a fuck about what my husband wants right now!!!_ ” you screamed, holding back your tears. “If he doesn’t care, why should you? _Move away!_ ” you raged. If you could have thrown something at him, you would have; his vigilance was pointless and infuriating, just like the rest of your shitty day.

“Milady—” he tried again valiantly, but got cut off again.

“Boss, shouldn’t we just tell her what’s going on?” resounded a younger man behind you. “Look at her, she’s hysterical!”

“Sejun—” he warned, but it was too late.

“ _What’s been going on?_ What? What is it I don’t know?” you wondered as you looked at the rest of the team, your voice getting shriller as your anxiety rose out control. One by one, they all avoided their eyes in a telltale admission of guilt, and your heart froze in your chest. “Is…is my husband…cheating on me?” you whispered at last, barely getting the words out of your throat. That’s why the chief didn’t want you to go alone, so you didn’t bump into Jumin’s mistress, or worse while they—  

“No, Milady, no!” the chief panicked. “It’s not what you imagine! Not at all!” he protested, before sighing in defeat when you started to cry. “Calm down, it’s really not what you think. Why don’t you just… _choose_ Sejun to escort you for your shopping? Whatever he decides to tell you after, I’ll be able to tell Mr. Han it wasn’t my decision” he conceded at last, motioning for you two to go forward. 

“Don’t be afraid, Milady” Sejun offered, flashing you a gentle smile that soothed your frazzled nerves. “I’ll explain everything.”  

***

“Your husband, Milady” Sejun started in a grave voice the second you were alone in the elevator, “is faithful to you, but he’s also a cruel man, most of all with you.”

“What? No! He takes great care of me! He—” you replied instantly, getting defensive on behalf of Jumin by pure instinct. Your husband had many flaws, but no one could accuse him of being stingy when it came to your well-being.

“I’m not talking about the material aspect of things!” Sejun interrupted, softening his tone as he continued. He looked much like Yoosung before he bleached his hair, all clean cut and professional, but his deep frown belied a rebellious idealism and a thirst for justice that would have honored Zen. “I’m talking about the emotional one, Milady. He has been famishing you like one would starve an animal to force it to perform tricks, and that’s the sad truth.”

“That’s impossible” you denied stubbornly. He had been distant, yes, painfully so even, but there was a difference between being emotionally remote and actively withholding love, and you wouldn’t believe Jumin capable of such a terrible thing. You just _wouldn’t_.

“Is it? Haven’t things dramatically changed since his trip to Arabia?” Sejun asked pointedly, making you wince. So you _hadn’t_ been the only one to notice. “It was the longest you two had been separated, wasn’t it? How many months? Three?”

“Yes. Three months” you exhaled shakily. You’d never be able to forget the aching loneliness of all those nights spent away from Jumin’s embrace—how you missed his sweet fire moving inside you, his passionate declarations of love as he encouraged you to come, his feverish kisses all over your body…

“Right” Sejun confirmed, bringing you back to the present. “Do you remember what happened upon his return? How _you_ reacted, specifically?” he stressed.

“I was…happy?” you tried, unsure what he was getting at. What else were you supposed to be?

“More than that. You were delirious with happiness! You had missed him very much, didn’t you? So much that you ran to kiss him like your life depended on it, not giving a damn about who saw you.”

“I-I did?” you stuttered, blushing bright red. You didn’t remember that part. In fact, you couldn’t remember much of that night other than the mind-blowing sex—the last before Jumin changed, now that you thought about it.

“Oh yes, you did! I remember how the press was raving about how lucky Mr. Han was to have a girlfriend so head over heels in love with him! You made first page in the magazines!” he recalled joyously, before his lips flattened to a thin, hard line. “Good thing they ignore what an asshole he is in private.”

“How so?…” you asked, curious despite yourself. Just _what_ could this all be about…? 

“That’s only my personal theory, Milady, but… Deep down, I don’t think Mr. Han has changed. He’s still the same selfish man who wanted to imprison you to have all your attention. He has just learned how to make it socially acceptable, that’s all” he sighed, before dropping the bomb. “Now instead of locking you up, he just gives you crumbs of affection, in the hope it’ll trigger the same desperate reaction.”

“ _What_..?” you whispered in consternation. “My husband is not like that! You have no proof!” you protested, torn between the wish to believe him and not. It was rubbish, but it would also explain so many things…

“I do! Because every night, Milady, that bastard runs to the door, more excited than a puppy to see you, then schools his face into an impassible mask and walks in like he doesn’t give a damn. It makes me _sick_ ” he admitted disdainfully, leaving you speechless with shock. “So now you know, and you can fire me if you want. I was going to hand my resignation tomorrow anyway, no big loss” he added with a wink, but your mind was solely on your poor, desperate husband.

 _Oh, Jumin…why, why?_ you thought desolately. Even as your heart soared in relief to know all your fears were unfounded, you knew this was unacceptable, and that you had to stand your ground. It’s not like he didn’t have some possessive relapses during your years of marriage—there was this time when you had to be hospitalized that had exacerbated his micro-managing of your care, or the other when a paparazzi assaulted you that had resulted in _weeks_ of extremely controlling behavior in the name of your protection—but he had always been very aware and open about it, so you could work on healing him from his demons _together_. Now all this secrecy and manipulation, for something he could have simply _asked_ … It hurt, more than the pain he inflicted on you during the last few weeks. Maybe he simply didn’t realize what a breach of trust it was, but you couldn’t just… _forgive_ him like he was a wayward child.

“…Milady? Are you okay?” Sejun asked after a moment, worried about your prolonged silence.

“I’m sorry, Sejun. Yes, I’m fine” you replied at last. “If you are sincere in your decision to quit, though… Can I ask you one favour before you go?” you inquired, a devious plan forming in your mind. “I never dared do this before, but now… I want to give my husband exactly what he wants. I want to show him how desperately I’m vying for his attention” you proposed, a mischievous light glinting in your eyes as you took his hand in yours. “Can you help me make him jealous?”

***

“Holy mother of…!” swore Sejun with a whistle when you entered the suite, wide-eyed at its decadent opulence. It was the room Jumin and you used for your sexcapades inside the building, an oasis of erotic indulgence that you had decorated together, and it gave no doubt as to Jumin’s preferences in the bedroom.

“What do you want me to use, Milady? The handcuffs? The rope?..” he suggested with exaggerated suaveness, making you laugh. Going to such lengths would be glorious, but unnecessarily cruel. The idea was to give Jumin a taste of his own medicine, not to return the hurt blow by blow—and you knew how fearful he was of you taking a lover, even after all those years.

“Let’s go with the classics” you suggested instead, enjoying Sejun’s impish grin of approval as you installed the tripod.  Lying on the bed, sitting on the chair, bending over the counter; with enough smoke and mirrors, just a few suggestive positions in this setting would be enough to fool Jumin and drive the point home. A picture was worth a thousand words after all, and with the number you were going to send, he’d receive a novel before his next meeting.

A very _long_ novel.

***

When you went home that night, you felt light, euphoric even. It had been nice to shake off the gloom of the last weeks by being pro-active; Sejun had been charming, and had made you feel carefree and appreciated —just like Jumin was supposed to make you feel, instead of insecure, worried and miserable. When you finally pushed the door of the penthouse open, you couldn’t wait to confront him.

“I trust you had fun today?” Jumin asked from the living room, each word dripping sarcasm, but you remained unfazed. You husband’s brooding didn’t impress you anymore, even when sitting in the dark in a perfect imitation of an irritated vampire; if he was home already, then your plan had worked.

“I did, actually” you replied pleasantly, not paying him attention as you turned towards the vanity and started taking off your jewelry, humming in satisfaction. “I had fun just like I wish _we_ did. Or haven’t you see the pictures?” you taunted, and was happy to see clench his fists in the mirror. “You didn’t? That’s a shame. I thought for sure _that_ would have gotten your attention… Guess you were too busy” you concluded with a shrug.

“Are you quite done? Or do you intend to torture me all night?” he spat, and you snapped. How _dare_ he made it sound like _you_ were in the wrong!

“I don’t know, Jumin, what about we talk about how long _you_ intended to torture _me_?” you pointed, whirling around to face him. “One more month? Two? Tell me, how did it feel to see me flirt with another man? Did you enjoy it? Did you wish it went on and on and on just like you did to _me?_ ” you pressed furiously, your hurt bubbling back to the surface. “Maybe I should have kissed him too? What do you think?”

“You _wouldn’t..!_ ” Jumin hissed, rising up to stride where you stood like the devil was after him and grab your chin in a painful grip. “You’re  _my_  wife!”

“Well, I don’t _feel_ like your wife latel— _mmmmfffff!!!!_ ” you screamed back in his face, before his lips crashed on yours ruthlessly. You wanted to turn your face away, but his hold was too strong, and it wasn’t long before you whimpered, your will weakening with the lack of air.

“Perhaps you need a reminder then” Jumin rasped against you ear after releasing you. “Is that what you were hoping for by getting it on with this _slime?_ ”

“Absolutely n—aaaah!! _Jumin!_ ” you moaned helplessly as his hands slid down to your waist to lift you on the vanity and press the proof of his arousal between your thighs, hard and imperious. This wasn’t right. You had to push him away—you wouldn’t be helping him if you let him overrule the argument with pleasure—but your body wasn’t listening to you. He was grinding himself against your core, covering your neck in love-bites that bordered on pain; _that_ was your husband, fierce, passionate, possessive, and you had missed him so much.

“That’s better. Tell me, was it fun to provoke me? Did you like it when he touched you?” he asked feverishly, squeezing your ass cheeks to stress his words. “How many times did he make you come? Did you moan _his_ name? Or shall I just ask your body?” he demanded, growing more and more desperate.

“I didn’t— _~u~iiinnn!_ ” you moaned in his mouth as he silenced you with another rapacious kiss before you could answer. You wanted to explain that the pictures were an illusion of forced perspective and framing—tricking the eye into believing Sejun’s hand was over your breast, your thigh, your ass when he was _meters_ away—and yet you didn’t, craving more of his jealous ardor.  “Ah, God! _Yes!_ _Jumin! **Please!”**_ you cried when his lips left your mouth to resume their attack on your neck, hooking your arms and legs around him to embrace him, to feel him closer, deeper, _inside_ —

“Not yet, my wife” Jumin denied with a shaky pant, a crazy glint entering his eyes as your confusing answer cost him his last shred of sanity. “Now put your hands on the table and open your legs wide” he instructed, deaf to your whine of protest as he put you back down on your feet to guide your limbs into the proper position, “and stay this way, or you’ll be punished, understand?” he threatened in a low voice, making you shiver as he expertly got rid of your dress, leaving you standing in nothing but your lewd lingerie. You should have refused, you should have resisted before he relapsed any harder, but—

“Ahhhh!! _Jumin_!!” you moaned when he fell on his knees to kiss your sex through your panties, before it dawned on you. “Wait, no!” you protested, vainly trying to free your legs from his iron grip as he slid the underwear down your thighs. “No! Please, I haven’t… showered yet! _Aaaaahh_!” you panted as he gave your exposed slit a long lick, making you see stars.

“That’s the whole idea” Jumin grunted against your core. “Understand, my wife, your body is mine and I know all the ways to make it speak the truth” he elaborated darkly, before his tongue snaked in between your folds and started toying with your clit, quick repetitive pressures like one would use to call an elevator, and you cried out in bliss.

“ _Jumin! Ahh! **Ahhh!** ”_ you chanted, your husband’s plan finally revealing itself as your felt your insides pool with juices, dripping out of your entrance like sap trickles down a tree. He wanted to sample your essence, check for any foreign addition—“ ** _Aaaaah! Jumin!!_** ” you moaned in ecstasy as his tongue invaded your hole, wet and hot and less forgiving than the harshest inquisitor.

“You taste the same” he whispered in relief, as if he wasn’t hearing you, “the same!” he repeated with a tremble, starting to lick you in earnest, as if he couldn’t get enough of the flavour. “Give me more” he demanded, his voice half muffled as he burrowed his nose inside your patch, sucking and slurping unabashedly, and you felt your hips rise to meet his pleas. It was so rare he decided to give you head—he always preferred to have a good look at your face during your lovemaking, so to never miss any of your expressions, and your mind was going blank to see him latch at your pussy like a babe would at his mother’s breast, begging to be fed.

“Jumin!” you moaned again as you bucked once, then twice. “Darling, please!…” 

“I’m here, my love. Does it feel good? Your honey is flowing more and more in my mouth” he whispered greedily before returning to his lapping, coating his chin in an indecent mix of your juices and his saliva.

“ _Jumin!”_ you gasped with more urgency, your voice piercing with a need you didn’t dare name. He was licking you with such passion, and you had yearned for it so much…

“Go on” he encouraged triumphantly, lifting his crazed eyes to yours, capturing your gaze into watching what was about to happen. “ _Use me_ ” he commanded, taking one of your hand that had ended on the vanity’s edge for support and putting it in his hair.

“I-I— _ahh!!—_ I-I can’t!” you protested, even as your fingers started to comb his black locks in a fistful. “I’m— _ahh!—_ embarr ** _ahh!!–_** ssed!”

“It’s alright, let yourself go” he growled. “Just fuck my face” he ordered as his hands left your legs, one to steady your hip and the other to pump your entrance, his tongue focused on your clit.

“ _Jumin! Yes!_ _Yesss!_ ”  you moaned as pleasure spiralled inside you, not caring anymore as you rubbed yourself shamelessly against him, your adoring husband who rewarded every desire you succumbed to. You could feel and hear his breath in your folds, ragged puffs of air like an animal devouring its prey, and it was driving you into a frenzy. “Jumin! I’m com— ** _ahhhhhh!”_** you cried as your orgasm hit you, sobbing with the joy of its deliverance and releasing a torrent in his waiting mouth.

“My precious wife” Jumin murmured, licking your sensitive flesh clean before rising up and cupping your jaw to marvel at your dazed expression. “I love you so much when you can’t deny yourself” he whispered, giving you a quick kiss that let you taste your own flavor. “But you didn’t do as I told you, so you’ll be punished” he announced, his lips splitting in a predatory smirk, “again and again, until you lose consciousness…”

***

“I won’t apologize” Jumin murmured hours later to your sleeping form, caressing a rebel strand of hair away from your face. You were so beautiful and perfect with your mane spread in a passionate halo on the bed and your thighs stained with his essence, your flesh still flush with the pleasure he forced you to endure until your throat became raw from moaning his name. “I told you before that I wished you’d be as desperate for your love as I am for yours…” he continued darkly, giving your lips a ghostlike kiss, like one would smell a rose.

For he had always suspected, but only truly _known_ since his return that he was losing the fight to become a better man. Your total disregard for anything that wasn’t your need of him when you welcomed him back, even his own health—it had made your later anguish at his restrained behavior even more treasurable. Now that he knew you had it in you, deep down under layers of kindness and sweetness and empathy, no amount of efforts he put would ever be enough to soothe his burning need to make you his completely, to break you into his mold, to _own_ you in the purest sense of the word.

“I don’t mind the pain we’ll go through until it happens. Be selfish, my wife. _Choose me_ ” he implored to your ear, his breath tickling your ear enough for you to shiver unconsciously. This love inside his breast was an insatiable hunger, growing ever needier every year, and there was just no telling how long he’d be able to resist his impulses before they festered out of control and consumed his soul—until the day he’d see the cage as your rightful place again, and throw away the key.

**Author's Note:**

> You didn’t think because I said it was a lighter offering that it would be fluff, right?;). I’m sorry if it wasn’t what some people expected with the jealousy theme, but I really couldn’t imagine a scenario where canon!MC would deliberately endanger an employee’s job just for the sake of teasing Jumin, or canon!Jumin reacting by punishing her angrily after all that “be selfish and put yourself first” stuff in his afterending—to me his domination would definitely come from a place of desperation. In any case, I hope you liked it!


End file.
